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Zac reached for my hand. “Let’s go take a peek at him.”
“Are you sure he won’t wake up?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“And you’re sure there’s no chance of Avery showing up?”
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
I took a deep breath. Then Zac started leading me to Malcolm’s bedroom. On our way, I glanced around and got a peek of Zac’s dining room, kitchen and living room. Everything was clean and neat. It was comfortable here, and peaceful. At least it was right now. I could imagine all the peace flying out the door as soon as Avery stepped through it.
Walking down the hallway, I noticed pictures of Malcolm on the wall and tugged at Zac’s hand to give me a minute to look at them. The main one that caught my eye was the one of Zac holding a newborn Malcolm at the hospital. It was precious—Malcolm was, and so was the way that Zac was looking at his son. Zac was smiling but I could also see that he’d been crying tears of joy. I did too when my Malcolm was born.
I looked up at Zac and he already had his eyes on me.
“I love this picture,” I whispered.
“Same here. My life completely changed on that day and for the better.”
“I know. Children have a way of doing that.”
“So do some people—like you, Sinclair. When I met you, my life got even better.”
“Same here. Now take me to see your mini-me.”
Zac cracked open Malcolm’s bedroom door and peeked around it.
“He’s still out,” he whispered, looking back at me. Then he opened the door and the two of us tiptoed into the room.
Malcolm looked like a little sleeping angel with his blond hair, long lashes resting against the tops of his cheeks, button nose and cupid bow lips. I leaned down closer to him to listen to his breathing and could tell that he definitely had a cold. He sounded stuffy, but not too badly. The meds that Zac had given to him were doing their job.
I wanted to touch Malcolm but didn’t know if it’d wake him. I watched him sleeping for about another minute and then couldn’t help myself. I reached out and lightly ran my fingertips across the top of his hair and briefly touched his cheek. When I looked up at Zac, he had the most serene look on his face. Then he nodded as if he’d just acknowledged something to himself. I had a good idea of what it was, too. What we were doing felt right in every way. Being together did. The two of us standing here inMalcolm’s bedroom did. Everything single thing did and it was something that I had no explanation for.
“We can go now,” I whispered to Zac, and we tiptoed back into the hallway. After he closed Malcolm’s door, I asked him who’d decorated his room.
“I did,” he said.
“I love the train theme in there.”
“So do I. My grandfather on my mother’s side of the family was a train engineer. I can’t tell you how many times it was that he snuck me onto his train when I was a kid.”
“Did he really?”
“Yes. It wasn’t ever for very long, though. My parents would meet him at one of the small towns that he went through outside of Dallas, then drive ahead to the next town where my grandfather would stop his train and let me get off.”
“That’s amazing. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to ride on a train.”
“I always enjoyed the scenery. The engineer and conductor see terrain that most people never do.”
“Okay, I’m gonna have to add riding on a train to my bucket list.”
“I’ll see what I can do to make it happen for you. My parents and I still know a lot of people employed by Union Pacific.”
“Really?”
Zac grinned. “Really. Come on. I wanna show you something.”
“Okay.”
